And Everything I Never Said Was For You To Hear
by Everion Radnor
Summary: Their noses were almost touching. "Matthew, you're my brother." "I don't care. You're the reason why I don't look at anyone else on the street. You're the reason I kill, lie, cheat and rob. Alfred, you are the one virtue I have in my many vices..." He began working open the buttons on Alfred's shirt. "And if we're going to burn in hell, we'll go all the way."


A little one-shot, to pass the time because my bitchy muse will not update the other stories floating around.  
As usual, no beta. None have volunteered and I don't think anyone will. I'm very lazy and uncooperative. :D  
And without further ado, let the show begin.

* * *

Matthew found his brother sitting on the swing in the playground. His lip was split open and a huge gash over his right eyebrow.  
He sat down beside him.  
"Do you-"  
"No, Matt, I don't want to talk about it. Go find someone else to pity." He flopped over backwards, until his hair touched the ground, the swing supporting only his backside.  
Matthew got up and crouched in front of Alfred. Purple eyes stared into bright blue.  
Alfred sighed, his breath gusting into Matthew's face.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."  
"Your ego did."  
Alfred's eyes fluttered closed and he sagged completely. Matthew hugged him gently, his brother's face pressed into his chest. Standing, he pulled Alfred up and dragged him home, never letting go of his hand.

* * *

"Who did this? Matt, don't fall asleep on me. DON'T! Don't go to sleep!"  
The world was awash with blurry lights and a dark shape in front of him, shaking his shoulders, yelling. Dimly, he placed the frantic voice as his brother's.  
He felt himself being moved onto someone's lap and warm hands patting all over his face, his chest and arms.  
"It's all right, I have you now. _I have you."  
_When Matthew was in the hospital bed and Alfred draped over him, nearly hysterical with rage, he begged him not to hurt those who had done this to him.  
"You're allowed to love who you want and what you want. No one stops you. _NO ONE!"_  
Alfred cupped his cheek gently, stroking the knife slashes. Leaning down, he whispered into his ear.  
"Who was it?"  
Matthew looked at him, pleading.  
"Please, Al."  
Alfred's face was emotionless, calm. "Who?" he repeated, lips curving up ever so slightly. His teeth glinted white in the lighting, like the unstained linoleum of the room and hard, metallic, like the railing surrounding the bed.  
Matthew's fear and rage bubbled up his throat, choking him and freeing him simultaneously.  
"The Allies."  
Alfred's hand slipped down to his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "No mercy for those who did this to my Matthew."  
Matthew placed his arms around his sibling and pulled him down to his chest.  
"Leave some for them to find, eh?"  
_

Alfred returned an hour later. Matthew sat up and pulled him close.  
"I love you very much, Matthew."  
Matthew pressed his nose into Alfred's collar. He smelled of Old Spice, sweat and blood.  
"I love you more."  
They fell asleep, entwined and the stained kitchen knife between them.

* * *

They were 21 when they robbed the Bank of America.  
"40 million? What do we do with 40 million?"  
"Alfred, what will we do with 40 million? 40?" Matthew looked shell shocked.  
"Keep 5 million for ourselves and the rest goes to charity."  
"Which one?"  
"Definitely not Greenpeace. Set up a Swiss account, fund NASA."  
"You and your fucking stars and national pride."  
"Damned pancakes and maple syrup."  
"I want coffee. You want coffee? It's a great day in New York. We just robbed a bank."  
"Shut up! I don't want to share with the NYPD."  
"There's this great bistro on Upper East Side. They have bear shaped pancakes."  
They looked at each other, poker-faced.  
"Drive, Al. And for Chrissakes, don't speed!"  
Alfred turned on the radio and hit the throttle. Lana Del Rey floated out into the cold morning air and wound around Matthew's heart.  
..._One for the money, two for the show_  
_I love you honey, I'm ready, I'm ready to go_  
_How did you get that way? I don't know_  
_You're screwed up and brilliant,_  
_Look like a million dollar man,_  
_So why is my heart broke?_

* * *

Alfred looked up from the newspaper he was reading as Matthew crossed the room. He did a double take.

"Matt, your hair's brown."  
Matthew twirled his curl and let it spring back into place.  
"I know."  
He looked at him, eyebrow quirked.  
"I wanted to look different for once in my life, Al."  
Alfred blinked, surprised.  
"You have a curl and longer hair. Purple eyes. You're a little taller. Quieter." He put down the paper, carefully folding it so it didn't crease and crossed his arms.  
Matthew remained standing, lips pursed.  
"You may be my biological twin, but you are a whole different person. You're Matthew."  
The setting sun crept across the carpet and his brother's face, making his eyes glow a startling violet, highlighting his insecurity.  
Alfred sat up and opened his arms, beckoning. Matthew practically surged into his embrace, falling on his knees as he hit the edge of the sofa. Alfred stroked his hair, marveling at the fine, soft strands.  
Without hesitation, Matthew looked up and kissed him. Alfred's eyes widened and his mouth was soft beneath his, all coffee and stale toothpaste and warm saliva coating his lips. Standing up, he slid onto the sofa, invading his space until they had no distance between them. He ran his fingers up Alfred's throat and jaw and held him steady as he explored his mouth, getting to know his kin even more intimately than he'd ever had.  
When Alfred broke away, panting, Matthew let him.  
"What was that?"  
"I kissed you, Al."  
Alfred cautiously ran his lips over with his tongue. Matthew brushed the hair out of his eyes and leaned closer. Their noses were almost touching.  
"Matthew, you're my brother."  
"I don't care. You're the reason why I don't look at anyone else on the street. You're the reason I kill, lie, cheat and rob. Alfred, you are the one virtue I have in my many vices..."  
He began working open the buttons on Alfred's shirt. "And if we're going to burn in hell, we'll go all the way."

* * *

They led triple lives: Alfred and Matthew, the doctor and the lawyer, Alfred and Matthew, the mercenaries for hire and Al and Matt, the brothers.

They were happy.

* * *

"You have a son, Dr. Jones. His name is Michael."  
Alfred stared at the man before him. "You possibly can't be serious."  
A tall woman stepped forward, her white-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. "Alfred, Michael is your son."  
"I-Ivana?"  
"Hello Alfred."  
"I can't take care of him."  
"You are a doctor. I think you can."  
Alfred looked at her helplessly.  
"You're his mother."  
"You are his father, hm?"  
"If it's child support you want, I'll give it to you. But I can't take care of him, Ivana. I'm sorry."  
Matthew had never hated Ivana more in his life.  
_Alfred is mine, you selfish, horrible bitch. _His face gave away nothing.  
When they reached home, Alfred only had time to close the door before Matthew had him pinned to the floor, arm on his throat.  
"Before or after, Alfred?" His voice was distorted with rage.  
"Before...Matthew, I'm not lying, I swear! It was a one night stand!"  
Matthew watched him choke. Most of his brain noticed that Alfred was turning a nasty shade of blue. The other quarter wondered whether that was barbecue chicken in the neighbor's house.  
Letting up on his brother's neck, Matthew bodily hauled him up and slammed him into the wall, knocking his glasses off. Alfred groaned as his head cracked against the hard plaster. He then proceeded to shove his left knee up in the middle of Alfred's legs and kiss him senseless. By the time he was done, his brother's already chapped lips were bleeding red and there were scratches down to his wrists.  
Alfred weakly wrapped his arms around Matthew's neck and rested his head on his shoulder.  
"I must say, if this happens more often, I won't run around so much."  
Matthew didn't appreciate his flippancy and sank his teeth into Alfred's clavicle. He yelped.  
"OW! Holy shit, Matthew..."  
He sagged a little and Matthew picked him up as if he were a rag doll.  
"Just because you fuck me somnolent every night does not mean I'm a girl. Put me down."  
The purple eyed man glared down at the man in his hold and tightened his grip.  
Alfred very wisely shut up and hid his face in his shoulder. Something about Matthew William-Jones's eyes promised violence.

* * *

It was a pattern, as sure as the lemniscates Alfred drew with his tongue on Matthew's pectoral and as rhythmical as Alfred's heartbeat, the sound that lulled Matthew to sleep. Matthew never mentioned love, just like Alfred never mentioned the bruises his mouth left all over him, only covered them.

* * *

The red laser traced it's way up Alfred's torso until it rested over his heart.  
Matthew couldn't shoot the sniper fast enough.  
Alfred was stock still, waiting.  
He grabbed the other man and rained fervent kisses down on his face.  
Alfred broke free and pulled him along. "Save it for later. We've a package to deliver."

* * *

"She was just a kid. A kid! And I couldn't save her, Matt...I let her die."  
Alfred sniffled into his second-best shirt. Matthew prayed the snot would get out.  
"You did your best, Al. You can't save every single person on the planet.  
His only reply was another sniffle, accompanied by a sneeze.  
"I swear, Al, for a genius, you're pretty dumb."  
"What if that happens to you?"  
A strange sense of foreboding swept over him. He took a deep breath and pulled his lover a little closer.  
"We'll think about that when it happens."

* * *

Belgie sounded terrified. "They've got him, Alfred."  
He went pale. "I knew I shouldn't have let him do it alone."  
"I know where he is."  
He'd never been one for faith, but this time, he prayed Matthew was safe.

* * *

In the end, Matthew thought bitterly, it happened to the wrong person.  
Alfred was a little too slow.  
The bullet hit his stomach.  
Matthew couldn't shoot him-he was handcuffed. He watched in disbelief as Alfred made his way to him.  
"I never lose keys," he grinned pathetically and freed him before collapsing in a bloody heap. Matthew rolled him over and cradled him, fingers on the faint pulse. He tried to staunch the bleeding, but there was too much blood and so little time.  
Alfred grabbed his collar and pressed a remote into his hand.  
"Blow 'em sky high, sweetheart."  
Alfred's eyes were flickering, a light bulb that had glowed too bright, fading.  
"It'll be the 4th of July, Alfred."  
"Take care of Michael, would you?"  
"You're his father! You can't die on me!"  
The hand on his collar snaked its way to his neck.  
"Now, you are."  
He kissed him deeply before his mouth fell slack.

* * *

_I will burn their hearts out, like they did mine._


End file.
